The Smallest Things
by Tapix
Summary: "There is a reason. There's always a reason." "ZIM DOES NOT WANT YOUR PITY!" "I must tell you why... why I do these things." Dib finally learned the answers to his questions. Why Zim talks in third person, why he always yells. Rated K.


The streets and alleyways were dark as the last rays of the sun fell over the ground. The air stank of filth and the walls were coated with grime. Distant screams and yells could be heard as petty crimes were executed. This particular road, however, seemed quiet…

_SPLASH!_

Fast footsteps raced through a large puddle, soaking everything around it with pungent water.

"Go away!" A green-skinned teenager screeched at his dark pursuer. "I don't care anymore!"

"Get back here, Zim!" the chaser replied. "Don't lie to me!"

"Augh!" Zim, confronted with a dead-ended alley, turned to face his enemy. Dib was taller than him, but not significantly so. Nevertheless, the way Dib looked, glowering down at Zim with pure hatred, was enough to set anyone's teeth on edge.

Zim, however, was not just "anyone". He had to deal with the Tallest, who were at least six human feet tall. "Give it up, Zim!" Dib said menacingly. "There's nowhere to run."

Zim just glared back. "Zim… is done running. Zim shall FIGHT!" He suddenly launched himself at Dib, knocking the black-haired boy over. Dib was ready for him. He threw Zim back into the wall, cracking the old bricks. Zim collapsed to the ground, but got back to his feet, his wig lying on the ground like a dead rat. His antennae had gotten longer, too; they now trailed down his back. "Why can't you just leave Zim alone?" Zim screamed at Dib. He threw himself off the ground, extending his mechanical legs and landing gracefully on their points. And the dance began. It only ended when Dib managed to smash one of Zim's mechanical legs, and Zim toppled right onto the startled teenager.

Immediately, Zim got up and planted one foot on Dib's chest. His left contact lens had a crack down the middle, and as Dib watched, it fell apart, exposing Zim's large maroon eye to the night air. His attention was then drawn to Zim's finger, which was pointing menacingly at Dib.

"You shall leave Zim alone," the alien snarled with dislike. "Zim wants no more of your pathetic excuses for trouble. Just… gah!" The alien turned away and started down the alley again, leaving Dib lying there in the dust.

What was that? Dib wondered. He had never seen such hatred in Zim's eyes before…

The next day, Zim wasn't at school. He wasn't at his base either; Dib had snuck in and found it devoid of all alien life-forms (actually, GIR let him in and told him Zim was on business WHEEE). Dib was starting to get worried, even though he knew he shouldn't; Zim was his enemy, right? Why should he care if he's gone? Dib had a feeling that it wasn't the end.

He was right. When Dib returned home, he found Zim sitting on his bed, holding a smashed object in his hand and shooting imaginary daggers at the computer with his eyes.

"Er… Zim? Why are you in my room?" Zim jumped and turned around. He promptly tossed the thing in his hand at Dib's head, not hard enough to make him bleed, but hard enough to hurt. Still watching Zim, Dib picked it up and looked at it.

"My files!" he exclaimed. It was the backup disc of his files on Zim that he kept on his computer, smashed to pieces by what had to be Zim's fist. "You didn't…"

"Zim did, Dib-stink," the alien said with distaste. "Zim is leaving this filthy planet, and does not wish to let the humans hold any more knowledge on me or the Irken race." Dib looked into Zim's eyes, free of contacts. His rival did not seem to be lying. They just stood there for a moment, trying to judge what the other would do next, daring the other do move, say, do something, ANYTHING, when Zim picked up another object and tossed it at Dib's head. This time, Dib caught it before it could make a dent in him, for this object was large and looked quite heavy.

"Read it," Zim told him indifferently. "It is a book. It will only open once and shall self-destruct a half minute after being closed, so Zim would suggest finding a good chunk of time to read it." With that, he went to the window. He unlatched it and, standing on the frame, looked back and said, "Good-bye, Dib. You shall probably never glimpse me again." His maroon gaze fell on the book in Dib's hand. "You will have many answers now…"

Zim called out something in a rough, guttural language and jumped. Dib ran to the window in time to see a purple ship fly up and vanish into space, a little robot waving out of the back window.

_What was that? _Dib wondered. _And…_ His gaze fell on the book he had dropped on his bed in his haste to get to the window. He slowly walked over and picked it up hesitantly, not ready to willingly trust anything Zim had given. He looked at the clock; no, today wouldn't do. He would have to read it over the weekend.

Dib went through the rest of the week mechanically. Zim's seat had already been taken up by a new student, and no one seemed to even notice Zim's disappearance. When he spoke of Zim, everyone just looked at him like he was crazy and said, "Who?" It seemed that the only person who remembered Zim was Gaz, but she really didn't care that he left.

Finally, FINALLY, the weekend arrived. As soon as he could, Dib finished all his homework and packed it away. He then went up to his room, grabbed the book, sat on his bed and opened it.

Dib began to read:

"I don't know why I am writing this. I don't know why I would care if anyone should understand me. But over these years, I have tired of everyone asking questions of me that I cannot answer. I have sought out the truth to tell, and it is this:

"The humans have wondered why I talk so much in third person. There is a reason for it. When I was a smeet (a young Irken, for those unaccustomed to Irken terminology) I was the same as all the other Irkens-in-training. I was, however, smaller and weaker than the rest of my Squad, and everyone picked on me. 'Stupid Zim,' they would say. 'Zim is a loser.'

"After a while, I started to believe it too. I started to think that 'Zim' was actually someone else, and would always talk about myself as 'Zim', not 'I' or 'me'. It got so bad that whenever I was in the presence of people of higher class, I would always talk in third person. Only when I was alone would I think that 'Zim' was me, and I hated myself for it.

"Since I came to Earth and met the Dib-human, it only got worse. His overpowering sense of victory over my foiled plans was too much to bear. I finally lost interest in calling myself 'Zim', and used the habit of talking in third person everywhere.

"When I decided to leave Earth in search of a better life, I finally got over it. I screamed at the Tallests that I didn't want to be an Invader anymore, and my self-esteem rose. Then, I stood up to Dib in the alleyway last night. Now, I am leaving for good. So long, bad habit. I hate you."

Dib looked up, surprised etched on his face. He had no idea that Zim was such a tortured soul… Taking care not to close the book, he set it down, spine up. He stared at it for a moment, then picked it up again. Time to read…

Me: SO! Mindless drabble! What do you think? ^^,

Dib: You could have done better.

Me: NOES D:

R&R!


End file.
